


Reefer Madness

by conceptofzero



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptofzero/pseuds/conceptofzero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Die’s a weird one. This is pretty evident from the moment Crowbar meets him. Die’s got hunched shoulders and dark bags under his eyes, and when Crowbar looks him in the eye, Die keeps looking away. Crowbar’s not too impressed, but he doesn’t worry about it. Die’s just one in fourteen others, and if the worst he can manage is ‘weird’, then Crowbar doesn’t give a damn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reefer Madness

Die’s a weird one. This is pretty evident from the moment Crowbar meets him. Die’s got hunched shoulders and dark bags under his eyes, and when Crowbar looks him in the eye, Die keeps looking away. Crowbar’s not too impressed, but he doesn’t worry about it. Die’s just one in fourteen others, and if the worst he can manage is ‘weird’, then Crowbar doesn’t give a damn.

“Whiner” gets added to the list shortly after Die starts bringing all his problems with the other Felt to Crowbar. It’s not like Crowbar doesn’t settle disputes – he’s got the crowbar after all – but these aren’t even worth settling. It’s petty shit like “Itchy won’t stop cheating at cards” and “Eggs and Biscuits were touching my voodoo doll again” and “Clover keeps making me answer riddles”, shit that’s not even worth bringing up. Die’s got two ways of dealing when things don’t go according to plan: whine to Crowbar, or stomp off to another timeline to sulk.

The third thing doesn’t come up until Crowbar takes Die along on surveillance duty one night. It’s a last-minute substitute when Sawbuck can’t come along because he gets jabbed and disappears into the timeline. Crowbar mentally goes over the list and settled for Die, assuming (wrongly) that compared to the others, he’ll be the most tolerable and most likely to take this seriously.

Crowbar knocks before he enters, and after a few minutes of fumbling and “just a second!”s from Die, he finally just lets himself in. Die’s got the doors to his balcony thrown wide open and he’s looking furtive and nervous, “uh. Um. Hi. Hey. Crowbar.”

“Hey,” Crowbar greets back because he should, not because he’s feeling terribly pleasant. There’s a lingering smell in the room that smells familiar, but not strong enough for Crowbar to place it, “Were you burning something here?”

“N-no! I. I mean. Well. Yes, I was. I was. Burning some incense,” Die stammers on for a bit and Crowbar tunes him out, not really giving a damn what he’s been doing in here.

He interrupts as Die gets into the beginning of a long explanation of how his voodoo doll works and why apparently incense helps him focus when picking out timelines to attach to pins, “Get your stuff, we’re doing surveillance.”

“W-what? No! I can’t go! Don’t pick me! I didn’t do anything!” Die sounds... odd. But he always does. Crowbar doesn’t really notice a difference, other than the whole extra-nervous thing. The whining is about the same as ever, “Weren’t you going with Sawbuck? What about Sawbuck?”

“Matchsticks ‘accidentally’ hit him with the poker,” There are never any accidents in the Felt house, somebody can always be blamed for whatever’s happened, “You’re up instead.”

“This. T-this really isn’t a, a good time. You should take Matchsticks, o-or maybe Snowman? Why don’t you and Snowman just. You know. Bond or something,” Die’s looking especially nervous, like he’s about to start sweating bullets.

“Downstairs, in the car, five minutes,” Crowbar gestures at Die with the crowbar, “And if you hop timelines, the next time you show up here, I’m going to beat the shit out of you. Got it?”

“G-got it,” Die stammers in agreement. Crowbar heads downstairs, knowing that Die will do as he’s told, even if he’s being odder than normal.

It takes Die seven minutes to show up, but he does show up, clutching his doll close to his chest and looking like he’s about to throw up. Crowbar ignores it. If he actually is sick and he throws up in the car, then Crowbar will owe him an apology. That’s fine. Crowbar’s good with those. He rarely has to hand them out though, because most of the time he’s right and right now, he’s sure that Die’s not actually sick.

Die doesn’t throw up. He sits in his seat and squirms around, and keeps stroking his doll, but he doesn’t throw up. Crowbar ignores the weird behaviour, focusing instead on taking notes on the bank. There aren’t a lot of people around at this time of night, but there are still a few guards making their rounds in the station. They’re fairly predictable, but he maps them out anyway, just in case.

That odd smell is still lingering, but now it’s stronger in the car. It’s coming from Die. Crowbar sniffs the air, trying to place it. He knows it. What the hell does it know it from? He glances over at Die again, watching his fingers stroke over the head of his doll.

It suddenly hits him. Crowbar sets down his pad of paper and grabs onto Die, yanking him over and ignoring Die’s shocked squeal, “Crowbar! W-wait, I-”

His pupils are huge and Crowbar shakes his head in disgust, “For fuck’s sake Die, how high are you?”

“I’m not! I’d never! It’s! It’s the light, I’m-” Die babbles on but all it takes is Crowbar staring at him to make Die crack, “I’m sorry! I didn’t think I would be doing anything! I just wanted to relax!”

“Relaxing isn’t part of the job description,” He growls out, “Staying sober is, and that’s what you’re supposed to do when there’s even a slim chance you’ll be expected to do your job.”

Die's hands frantically rub over his knees, like somehow that's going to fix everything, "I just. I was trying to relax!"

"How often to do 'try to relax'? When's the last time you did this?" Crowbar is pissed. Goddamnit, Die knows better than this, they all know better than this. And now there's a part of him wondering if he's missed this before. It wouldn't be hard, not when Crowbar's usually got to look after thirteen other louder and more demanding men, "Die, when's the last time you did this?"

"I-i don't know!" Crowbar stares him down until Die cringes, "Okay okay, I. Last Tuesday."

Tuesday. Crowbar thinks back, and his scowl deepens, "For fuck's sake Die, we had a job that day! Is that why we nearly got caught when you were supposed to be look-out? Goddamnit Die-"

“I didn’t know!” Die gives in to misery, just like he always does. Crowbar sees him reaching for his pins and he yanks the doll out of Die’s hands, “Hey!! No!”

Crowbar keeps it away from Die’s grabbing hands, holding it against the driver’s side window, “No, you’re not running away because you fucked up. We’re going to talk about this and why it's not fucking okay.”

Die whines and proves that he’s really high because he starts crawling over Crowbar to grab the doll. Crowbar fights to keep it away, and to keep Die off of him, but when it becomes too much, he stashes the doll behind his back, and discretely shoves it into the cushions of the car. Die attempts to look behind Crowbar’s back, but Crowbar quickly psyches him out, finally showing to empty hands.

“Give it back,” Die grabs onto Crowbar’s jacket, “I need it back!”

“You don’t need it. The only thing you need to do is sober up and get the hell off of my lap,” He tries to get Die off, but it’s harder than it sounds. Die starts jamming his hands into Crowbar’s jacket, digging around to find the doll, “Die!”

“No no no where is it!” Die’s hands shove against Crowbar’s torso, trying to find something. Crowbar grabs onto Die’s hands and tries to hold them apart, not terribly comfortable where this he headed, “Crowbar!”

“Die!” He snaps back and Die goes still, just staring at Crowbar. He keeps his grip on Die’s arms and goes into lecture mode, “You’ll get it back when we’re finished. This is unprofessional and it reflect badly on all of us. We’re the Felt. We aren’t a bunch of fucking idiots who get fucked up and go out on surveillance without saying a word about it! Don’t get high when you might be on duty, and if you do, you tell me before we leave! I’m not babysitting you, and you should be embarrassed and ashamed-”

The things that Die’s meant to be embarrassed and ashamed about go unsaid as Die leans forward and shuts Crowbar up with a kiss. It’s not a peck on the lips; it’s open-mouthed and dirty, and Die’s just about crawling into Crowbar’s mouth. He’s shocked enough that he actually lets go of Die’s arms, and they snake under Crowbar’s jacket and start undoing his buttons.

Crowbar tries to get the situation back under control, grabbing onto Die’s shoulders and shoving him back, “What the fuck Die? I. What the fuck?”

Die stares at Crowbar, like Crowbar's the one who kissed him, and his face just falls apart again, "I just. You're so mad and. And I don't want you to be mad at me."

"So you do that?" Crowbar feels like he's gone insane, or maybe he's the one who's high because none of this is making any fucking sense to him, "What the fuck Die?"

“You’re always so mad at me,” Die doesn’t go far, still perched on Crowbar’s knees, and he looks like he’s about to dart forward at any moment, “Why don’t you like me? What am I doing wrong?”

"You're high and trying to fucking crawl into my mouth, what aren't you doing wrong?" Crowbar snaps back, slapping Die's hands away when they start crawling towards him again. This is entirely the wrong thing to say because Die's eyes get even bigger, like the poor bastard's about to start fucking crying or something. Crowbar really can't take this, "Die, if you cry, I'm going to hit you."

"I'm not crying! I'm just. I don't understand," Die clutches his hands to his chest, looking just miserable enough that Crowbar's actually starting to feel a little bad, "Why are you so angry? I was just trying to make you like me and you don't, you're always so mad at me, even when I don't do anything!"

“What?” Crowbar shakes head, fighting to speak slow and levelly, not wanting another armful of Die because apparently Die thinks the way to address his grievances is to make out with him and then whine, “Die, this isn’t. You’re not doing anything wrong, okay? Well. The whole making-out thing is- look, I’m just mad because you didn’t tell me you were high. I’m not mad at you all the time.”

“Yes you are,” Die scoots forward and Crowbar gets his arms up, ready to push him back, “You’re always telling me that you won’t help me! And. And then you get mad because I leave!”

“I do help you. I just don’t help when you don’t need it,” Crowbar can’t believe he’s having this conversation. He also can’t believe how warm Die is. That’s not a good train of thought to go down, “You have to deal with your own problems sometimes. That’s not me being mad at you. I’d do the same with anyone else. And I’m not mad you’re leaving, I’m just. I’m frustrated when you don’t even try to fix the problem. I get it. Itchy’s an asshole. Stop playing cards with him if you can’t stand it. Or cheat back, I don’t care. Running away isn’t going to fix it.”

“It’s hard,” He pulls his top hat off and holds it in his hands, “I don’t know what to do all the time and Itchy’s such a jerk and I try but he makes it worse and then he’s stealing my hat and swapping it with everyone else’s and-”

“Take a breath,” Crowbar reminds Die, “Okay, like I said, Itchy’s an asshole. Avoid him. I know it’s not easy, but you’ve got to do it. I can’t stick up for you. It makes you look like a child, and it makes me look like I’m playing favourites. If I’m playing favourites, then nobody’s going to listen to me.”

“I’m... I’m your favourite?” Die’s eyes light up, and before Crowbar can explain that’s not what he meant, Die tosses his hat to the side and gets up in Crowbar’s face again. Only this time, his kissing is quickly followed by a hand down Crowbar’s pants. Crowbar’s plans to shove Die back are quickly waylaid when Die wraps a hand around his cock and paws at it. Die gasps out a few words between kisses, “You’re my favourite too.”

“Oh fuck,” Crowbar manages to spit out. It’s downright impossible to focus when Die’s all over Crowbar, hands and mouth doing their best to distract him. Die kisses like he doesn’t need to breathe, deep demanding motions with his mouth that would be distracted even if he didn’t have a hand down Crowbar’s pants. He’s stroking him roughly and it’s taking all of Crowbar’s willpower not to just give in. Die’s good, Die’s really good, and honestly, there’s a part of Crowbar, deep down inside of him, that’s wanted to fuck Die since the second or third time Die came whining to him. Still, he attempts to appeal to Die’s senses, once again slapping Die's hand away, “Die, we're on surveillance-”

“Oh! Oh right!” Die pulls back, and for a second, Crowbar thinks it’s sunk in. But Die just fumbles with Crowbar’s pants, getting then unbuckled and open and yanking him towards the passenger side. He settles on his knees on the floor and fishes Crowbar’s cock out of his pants, “There, you can still see, and I’ll just. Do this. It can't be that hard."

Crowbar should be telling Die to knock it off, he's fucking high and acting stupid. But then Die licks his lips and Crowbar doesn't say anything, not even as Die leans in and awkwardly wraps his mouth around Crowbar's cock. He's just a man after all, and not the sort of man to turn down a blowjob for any reason, even from Die, "Fuck," Crowbar spits out again, watching Die trying to figure out how to blow someone.

It's pretty obvious he's never actually done this before, but what he lacks in knowledge, he makes up for in eagerness. Die sucks on Crowbar, adjusting his mouth as he tries to find out what works best. Crowbar glances up for a moment, scanning the area to make sure no one's around. There's no one, and he glances back down, just in time to see Die try to take in as much of Crowbar's cock as he can. He gets most of it, but starts to gag, and Crowbar has to push him off.

"Easy there," Crowbar waits until Die's done coughing, "Take it slow and work your way up."

"Okay," Die blurts out, his cheeks flushed red from coughing. He licks his lips again and approaches Crowbar's cock, pausing with his mouth right above Crowbar's cock, "You really aren't mad? About this?"

"Why would I- no, I'm not mad about this," Crowbar answers as honestly as he can, an accomplishment considering that all he wants to do is grab Die's head and push it down, "This is good."

"You'd tell me if you were mad, right? You wouldn't lie to me?" Die's fingers dig into the seats and he looks panicked, "I don't want you to be mad at me. Nobody really likes me. I-I know that. Why wouldn't I know that? But. But you like me, right?"

"Die, people do like you," Crowbar cannot believe they're having this conversation, not when his dick is sticking out of his pants, right in front of Die's mouth, "That's why they bug you. It's their way of trying to make friends."

Die stared up at Crowbar. It was clear from his wide eyes and open mouth that he was having an epiphany, "They... don't hate me."

"Nobody hates you," Crowbar sighs and reaches down to tuck his cock away so they can at least try and talk about this stuff seriously. Die grabs onto his hands, shaking his head, "Die, come on, you're high and this probably isn't fair-nnng!"

Once again, his attempts to talk to Die are thwarted by Die's mouth, which slips over the head of Crowbar's cock. He does take it slower this time, contenting himself with sucking and head-bobbing, both of which feel fucking fantastic. Die lets go of Crowbar's hands, and after a moment of indecision, Crowbar sets on one Die's head, stroking the back.

"That's. That's good," He encourages Die, and is instantly rewarded with a little extra suction. Crowbar groans and Die's hands end up on Crowbar's thighs, digging into the fabric. He flicks his eyes up to check again, but the coast is still clear. Die doesn't seem to notice, too focused on the cock in his mouth. He pulls off and experimentally licks at the head, getting another groan out of Crowbar.

"This is. Not so bad. I think I'm getting used to this," Die tells Crowbar between licks, treating Crowbar's dick like some sort of lollipop. The swipes become a little less organized as Die's hands start to rub over Crowbar's pants, "What does Stitch make your pants out of? They're so soft. They're softer than mine. Do you... do you think he gives you softer pants on purpose?"

"I don't know," Crowbar doesn't give a shit if Stitch is giving anybody softer clothes, "Die, focus."

"I just. I need to know. Do you think he'll tell me if I ask? Do you think he'll make me some? He doesn't hate me, right? Maybe he does. Maybe that's why I don't get soft pants," Crowbar tolerates the rambling for a while before getting frustrated enough to demand a little focus. He pushes Die's mouth back towards the whole cock, not just the head, and Die lets it slide inside, already starting to bob away again.

"Keep it up. That's really good. Just. Keep your whole mouth on me. And keep sucking," Crowbar gives him feedback and lots of it, and Die's all to eager to do exactly as told. It's a messy blowjob, but Crowbar's of the opinion that any blowjob is a a good one, regardless of how messy it may or may not be, "That's good Die, just. Do that."

One of Die's hands lets go of Crowbar's thigh and he watches as Die slips it down. He can't see too good in this light, but it's obvious from the sound Die makes around Crowbar's cock that he's got it stuffed down the front of his own pants. Crowbar bites back a sound of his own, focusing entirely on keeping Die's head moving up and down his shaft.

At least he's a quick learner. And even though being high seems to have made him more insecure than usual, he's still got focus. Die drags his mouth along Crowbar's shaft, and his tongue brushes against the head of Crowbar's cock. He urges Die to move faster as Crowbar gets closer, groaning happily when Die does just that, "Fuck. Keep sucking. Just like that. Die, you're doing fine, just fine, just. Faster."

Die does faster, his head really bobbing on Crowbar's cock, and the hand down his pants working just as quickly. It's pretty good multitasking. He tries to talk a little too, but all that comes out are muffled wet sounds. Die's drooling a little, and it shouldn't be attractive, but somehow it really is and it goes right to Crowbar's dick.

Crowbar feels himself getting closer to the edge and he takes his hand off of Die's head, trying to warn him, "Hey, I'm getting- fuck, getting close. Get off."

But Die doesn't. His eyes fix up on Crowbar and he works his mouth down further and further, until he's at the point he was before, only now he isn't gagging. Crowbar tries to say something, anything, to warn Die that this is a bad fucking idea, but his mouth is so fucking hot and the suction is too damn good, and Crowbar thrusts up into Die's mouth, coming loudly. Die tries to swallow, but he gags, and the fingers on Crowbar's thigh dig in harder.

He feels like his brains just leaked out of his dick and splattered in Die's mouth, but he's still got enough intelligence to get the passenger side door open for Die. Die sticks his head out the side, gagging and spitting, and Crowbar tries to catch his breath, "Warned. You."

Die's response is to gag again. Crowbar puts his dick away before someone walks along and peeks inside, and waits for Die to stop retching. Once it looks like Die's done, Crowbar hauls him back into the car and slams the door shut. Die flops back against the seat, looking miserable and still hard, "Crowbar? I'm sorry. I thought-"

"I know," Crowbar sighs, glancing down at Die's problem. If he was just a bit more of an asshole, he'd just leave Die high and dry. But it's bad form to accept a blowjob from someone and not get them off.

He struggles a bit with Die's trousers and gets them down, Die's cock easily coming free. Die grabs onto Crowbar and just holds on tight while Crowbar strokes him. Crowbar gets a hold of the handkerchief in his jacket pocket with his free hand, and waits. It doesn't take long. Die must have been almost there before he got overenthusiastic, and his breathing quickens again until his hands are twisted up in Crowbar's partly-open shirt.

"Crowbar," Die whines, but it's a good whine this time. Crowbar just keeps stroking, watching as Die tenses up and then falls apart, coming with a whimper. He manages to get most of it in the handkerchief, wiping up whatever gets free with the clean side. Crowbar tosses it into the bag of trash in the backseat, not even bothering to consider washing it. He can get another, and if not, then he'll get Stitch to make one.

And when that's done, Crowbar slumps back against the seat as well. His eyes seek out the bank across the street. Crowbar has no idea how many patrols have swept by since they started. The past half hour of surveillance has been a complete waste of time.

Die shoves himself under Crowbar's arm, curling into his side, "You're still not mad, right?"

He sighs, "I'm not mad. I don't know how many times I can say this, but I'm not mad at you. We're just going to have to set up another surveillance night. And you're not going to be stoned at that one. We're professionals. If you want to get high, you save it for a night when you're not on duty, and you fucking tell me before we leave. Are we clear?"

Crowbar waits for an answer. Die stares up at him, his wandering hands rubbing over Crowbar's shirt, "I'm so hungry right now."

"Of course you are," Crowbar slaps Die's hands away. There's no point in hanging around. He's going to have to come back another day. Alone. Or at least with someone who won't suck his dick because he's insecure, "When we get back, you're showing me where your stash is."

"O-okay. Do you- I have some stuff we could take," Die looks hopefully at Crowbar, "We could. You know."

Crowbar had no intention of getting high but he nods anyway. He was going to find out where Die's shit was, and once Die passed out, Crowbar was going to take it away from him and hold it hostage until Die straightened the fuck out.

Die smiles for a moment, and then his face just falls, "Where's my voodoo doll? Crowbar-"

"Don't get your panties in a twist," Crowbar sticks his hand behind him and feels around in the seat until he comes up with it. He shoves the doll back into Die's hands, "There you go. And for fuck's sake, tuck yourself in."

"What?" Die looks at Crowbar, and then down at his lap, where his cock is still hanging out, "Oh."

Die finally arranges himself while Crowbar starts the car and heads back to the mansion, already looking forward to Die's panic in the morning.


End file.
